


Breakfast Special

by RickylLover



Category: The Walking Dead, The walking dead TV
Genre: Chapter 3 and 4 for heartbreak for RWG Bingo, Chapter 3 for misunderstanding for RWG Bingo, Chapter 5 for kissing for hours and hours for RWG Bingo, Cop Rick, Friends to falling in love, M/M, Mentions of past abuse, Protective Rick, Rick's POV, Rickyl Writers' Group, Rickyl Writers' Group Bingo 2016, Some hurt/comfort, chapter 1 obsession for RWG Bingo, diner cook Daryl
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-04 17:33:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6667933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RickylLover/pseuds/RickylLover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick has an obsession at the diner. And it ain't the pancakes...He knows Daryl is his best friend in life, but there is also something more...something special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hot Cakes An' Hot Cooks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick has an obsession at the diner...and it ain't the pancakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just can't stop with Rickyl. I hope you like this new one...let me know what you think. This is five chapters and I hope to post one a day until it is done. : )

     Bein' a small town cop ain't just about coffee an' doughnuts. Shit gets ugly everywhere. Rick couldn't stop thinking about their last call. About Carol Peletier. Tears an' snot all over her face. An' bruises. Her asshole husband had scared her enough to call the cops, but as soon as they showed up she's sayin' she fell. Like she always does. An' even worse, actin' like she deserved it.

     Rick don't know why people do shit like that. Beat on eachother. 'Specially on the people that least deserve it. Fuck, small towns got their problems. The worst bein' knowin' the people ya can't help. 'Cuz they won't let ya. Seein' them at the grocery store. Hidin' bruises under sleeves too long for the weather. Walkin' around like they don't deserve to be there.

     After that Rick didn't want to go home. Just yet. To a quiet apartment and a shitty TV dinner. He was glad when Shane pulled into the diner that does breakfast all day instead of pulling into the station after a long shift. Shane could read him like a book. And, it had become their thang. Stopping to eat at the diner, chat with the cook. Best breakfast in the county. And Shane liked chasing after the waitresses. Daryl Dixon, the cook, wasn't bad either.

     Daryl had grown up in a home like the Peletier's. But, old Ed Peletier had nothin' on Will Dixon. Text book asshole. Straight outta Police Academy training. But, Daryl had turned out good and kind. Got himself a job flipping burgers and hot cakes and took care of his brother. And Rick had a soft spot for him. And hope for the Peletier girl that she might do as well.

     As soon as they parked Rick was feeling better. Knowing Daryl was inside. Something about the man soothed him. Being with him felt like home in a way his apartment or any house never could. Shane had perked up, too. Fluffing his hair and preening in the rear view mirror.

     "You here ta see your girlfriend?" Rick teased as he got out of the patrol car.

     Shane smirked. "Hope she don't find out I got a date with another girl tonight," he winked.

     "She's pretty sweet on ya," Rick shook his head. All the ladies are sweet on Shane. "Best not go breakin' her heart now," he scolded. Only half teasin'.

     Shane slammed the door and caught up to Rick. "My Dottie has a bit of a sweet spot fer you, too, ya know," he clapped an arm around Rick's shoulder an' they entered the diner like a pair of Siamese twins.

     Rick blushed. "Must be the uniform." Ain't nobody sweet on him.

     "Well," Shane flashed a grin that was all teeth, "yer foolin' yerself if ya think I'm the only one comes here ta flirt." He prodded Rick with a sharp elbow. "You got an obsession at this diner. And it ain't the breakfast."

     Rick dismissed the comment as brotherly teasing. He wasn't fawnin' over anybody. Hootin' an' hollerin' or catcallin' an' shit. Just here for the pancakes. Best he ever had. And made just for him. And if the cook looked hot as fuck in his tight tee-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his shoulders and if that did thangs to Rick, thangs ain't decent, well, ain't nobody's business but his own.

     The diner was one a them places with stools at the counter an' big, red vinyl booths ya can't help but stick to. Smelled like strong coffee, bacon an' butter burnin' on a hot griddle. "Look," Rick tugged at Shane's shirt as they approached the glass case. "The pie's peach today." Shane's favorite.

     "My girl musta known I's comin'," Shane elbowed Rick suggestively as he looked around an' didn't see her. The place was pretty empty 'cept for a few regulars at the counter. "Dottie!" Shane bellowed like he was tellin' a prisoner to stand down. "Come on out here an' give your old man a kiss."

     "Shane? That you?" Her tiny voice creaked from behind the kitchen door as she pushed through it and it clapped back and forth behind her. Dottie's a cute, little thang. 'Bout sixty-five if she's a day. With bright painted lips and a whisp of orange-dyed hair like creamcicle cotton candy on 'er head. She threw herself inta Shane's bear hug. Leavin' lipstick all over his face.

     "You, too, Darlin'," she flapped her arms at Rick. Pulled him in for a peck on the cheek. "You boys find a seat an' I'll bring ya some coffee an' tell Daryl ta start yer usual."

     Rick's mouth watered an' he wasn't sure if it was for the pancakes or the mention of the cook. He pulled a paper napkin outta the dispenser an' wiped Shane's face as they took one of the booths. Dottie came back with coffee an' more kisses then trotted off to the counter.

     "So, ya gonna tell me who you're goin' out with tonight?" Rick asked coyly as he poured cream in their coffees and gulped his down. Him an' Daryl had a bet it was some blonde named Aimee. With two E's. Ex stripper. Or some shit like that.

     "I'm turnin' over a new leaf," Shane hung his head so Rick couldn't see his smile. But, he could hear it in his voice. "I'm savin' myself for Dottie, don'tcha know?"

     Rick laughed. "Are ya now?" He leaned forward and patted Shane's hand across the table. "I think you two will be very happy together."

     Shane chuckled and they both parted like the Red Sea as the cook served up their food. "Who's this guy gonna be happy with?" Daryl winked. Brushin' Rick's shoulder as he sat his plate down.

     "Dottie," Rick beamed at Daryl. Sliding over in the booth to make room for him and his plate of the meatloaf special as he joined them. Rick buttered his mountain of pancakes. Pouring syrup on 'til they's floating in it. Daryl always gave him extra. Just the way he liked it.

     "What?" Daryl plastered himself to Rick, bumping shoulders. "Ya stealin' m' girl, Shane?" He dug into his lunch like he hadn't eaten all week.

     "Jesus, man," Shane shifted side to side, "don't anyone ever feed you two?" He poured ketchup on his fries an' burger an' hunched over his plate like he had to protect it.

     Rick swallowed a buttery mouthful an' washed it down with coffee like it was a slug of bourbon he was knocking back. "What can I say," he reached over and stole one of Shane's French fries, "good cookin'."

     Daryl blushed. Shovin' a forkful of meatloaf an' potatoes in his mouth. Like he don't know what to say to a compliment. "Somebody gotta put some meat on ya," he pinched at Rick's side making his belly flop. "Ain't nothin' special, though, jus' pancakes," he shrugged. Nudgin' Rick's knee with his own. "Ya should try the meatloaf," he fed Rick a bite. Right off his fork.

     "Jus' pancakes," Shane mocked Daryl. Swatting Rick away as he stole more fries. "Hey, Officer, I'd like ta report a theft," he whined, but pushed his plate over to offer more as he used his fork to hack a wedge of pancakes from Rick's plate. "Those are damn good pancakes, though."

     "Seriously, Shane," Rick pointed at him with a French fry before he stuffed it in Daryl's mouth. "When ya gonna settle down? Have some kids?"

     Shane made a noise like air coming out of a tire. "Soon as I find someone worth settlin' down with, I guess." He chewed a bite of burger an' washed it down with coffee. "But, pardon me fer sayin' this, Brother," he leaned in close an' Rick and Daryl followed his lead an' did the same. It's a small town. An' people talk. "It ain't all sweetness an' light as ya well know from all a them calls out ta the Peletier's."

     "Yeah," Rick sighed. But, he couldn't help imagine how nice thangs with the right person could be. Someone who knows how ya like extra butter an' syrup on your pancakes. "They got their problems, but..." He leaned against Daryl more than the booth an' sipped coffee while he waited for the pancakes to settle. "The Peletiers ain't the norm."

     "They are fer me," Daryl hunched over his food. "M' ol' man beat on us all the time." He shoveled another bite. Talking through it. "But, even I know ain't ever'ybody a asshole," Daryl shrugged. Lookin' to Rick. "There's still good people in the world," his eyes drilled into Rick's. Like he was sayin', _you_. "Gotta be some a them get a happily ever after, don'tcha think?"

     Rick sure hoped so. If anyone deserved a happily ever after it was Daryl. The man grew up havin' hate an' narrow mindedness beat into him, but still turned out a good person. Best there is. Had the biggest heart of anyone Rick ever knew. Including his mom. Daryl made Rick want to be a better person. A better cop. So he could always protect him. From everythang.

     "Well," Shane pushed his plate away. "It ain't in the cards fer me is all I'm sayin', ya know?"

     'Course Rick knew. Shane was always goin' on 'bout women. An' all a his troubles with 'em. Weren't hard to see why Shane weren't hitched. It wasn't that he didn't understand women so much as he didn't understand love. Daryl was the one Rick couldn't understand bein' single. 'Course they spent all their free time together so...

     "Maybe ya really should run off with Dottie, Shane," Rick went back to work on his pancakes. "She's a real peach." An' she'd whip him into shape, too.

     Daryl choked on his meatloaf. "Nah," he moved onto the potatoes. "She could do better." He kicked Shane under the table. They all laughed their fool heads off at that before Daryl turned back to Rick. "Ya wanna go fishin' after work?"

     "Sure," Rick slumped against the booth. He couldn't think of anythang better.


	2. Fishing for More

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick and Daryl go fishing as usual, but then something happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad chapter one was well received. Hope you like this follow up as much. Let me know your thoughts. : )

     Being with Daryl always made Rick feel...something that being with Shane never could. He'd been friends with Shane since second grade. But, Daryl? Felt like he'd known Daryl since before he was born. Like they shared the same mind. Same soul. Daryl made him feel whole.

     Fishing with Daryl was Rick's favorite. Because it was always just the two of them. Laying on their backs. Shoulders touching. Drinking beers an' just being together. Talking shit. Or sometimes letting hours pass between them without a single word. But, they communicated jus' the same. Connecting. Like they were born to.

     So, when Rick rolled over onto Daryl's chest it felt like the most natural thang in the world. And if Daryl thought otherwise he didn't say. He just stroked his fingers through Rick's hair. Making him feel all was right with the world.

     Daryl was the one to finally break the silence. "Ain't catchin' nothin' t'day." But, they both knew it wasn't about the fishing. Coming to the creek was never about the fishing.

     "Skunked again," Rick huffed out a laugh. But, laying on Daryl, he couldn't help but feel he had caught something today. Something he couldn't understand, but appreciated jus' the same. Something he'd never let go. He let his arms fall around Daryl and squeezed him a little bit.

     Daryl shifted under him. Ever so slightly. Like maybe he didn't want Rick to move. "I'ma haveta get us some squirrels ta do up over the fire er we ain't gettin' dinner." But, he made no move to get up.

     An' Rick made no move to let him. He jus' layed there. On Daryl's chest. Listening to his heartbeat like it was putting words to their silent language. Until his ear hurt. But, he didn't want to break contact, lose this moment. So he shimmied lower until his face was buried in Daryl's belly. It was soft and warm against his cheek. Felt nice in the cool evening air as the sun was starting to set.

     And, so his hand found its way to the warmth, too. Under Daryl's shirt. Skin on skin. And the man who flinched at everything, even Shane when he spoke too loud sometimes, relaxed into the touch. Rick knew that meant something. Something important. And he stroked the fine patch of hair he found there. The same way Daryl stroked his head. And neither said a word about it.

     Neither said a word 'bout anythang. And the silence wasn't awkward like silence always is with Shane. It was comfortable. And Rick enjoyed every minute of it. Until it was getting so dark they had to scramble into action to collect their gear and get back to the truck while they could still find their way.

     "Burgers at Hardee's okay with you?" Daryl threw his armload of stuff an' thangs into the truck bed. " 'M starvin'."

     "Me, too," Rick closed the tailgate. Slid into the truck. And it wasn't lost on him that Daryl had every reason to get up before. Hunt squirrel. But, Rick's heart squeezed as he thought that maybe, jus' maybe he'd had every reason to stay.

     Greasy fast food burgers ain't gonna compare to fresh fish roasted over the fire. And the way Daryl ate with his fingers. Sucking them off noisily after each bite. Making Rick want Daryl to suck him off. But, Rick shouldn't think of that. Thangs he'll never have. Thangs he had no right to want from Daryl.

     Daryl said nothing the entire drive to the restaurant. One arm out the window an' the other resting on the gearshift. Almost touching Rick's leg. And Rick was relieved when Daryl dumped both packets of fries into the bag together. To be shared. Like usual. Like the shake they'd always get. Alternating between chocolate for Rick and strawberry for Daryl.

     Daryl eased the truck into a parking spot so they could eat. Jabbing at the gearshift maybe more than he needed to. Bumping Rick's thigh. "It ain't fancy," Daryl snagged the strawberry shake from where Rick had it secured in his lap. "But, it sure is nice by Dixon standards." He took a long pull on the straw. Blushing as pink as the shake when Rick met his gaze.

     "Well," Rick's mouth went dry as he watched Daryl suck. And he'd probably have a tent in his jeans if the shake hadn't frozen his crotch. "I can't speak fer the food, but the company sure is nice."

     "Psh," Daryl shrugged. Wolfing down half a burger in one bite. "Ya ain't so bad yerself." He finished it. Ripped the wrapper off the second one. Dipped it into the pile of ketchup Rick'd squirted onto the side of the fries. "Even though ya scared away all them fish," he elbowed Rick.

     Rick was jus' glad he hadn't scared away Daryl. "I scared away the fish?" He snagged the shake off the dashboard. Fitting his lips to where Daryl's had been. And even though he'd done it a thousand times before it felt more intimate now. The blood rushed to his frozen dick as he remembered the sound of Daryl's heart pounding in his ear. "Yer the one usin' Spam fer bait," he teased. Because he couldn't think of anything else to say that wouldn't get him in trouble.

     "What the hell else that shit good fer?" Daryl squawked through a mouthful of fries. "Merle got it 'cuz the shit were on sale," he huffed. "Guess tha's the las' time I let him do the grocery shoppin'."

     Rick laughed. Like only the way yer best friend can make ya laugh. Sinking back into his seat as Daryl started the truck. Rick didn't want this night to end. This new development in their relationship. Whatever the hell it was. And the closer Daryl got to home the further away Rick felt. Like, what if next time is different? Back to how it was. Without the rolling into eachother and the...? Jesus, what was that? Cuddling? Whatever it was it felt good. Felt right. And Rick was afraid of losing it the second he slid outta the truck.


	3. Mixed Messages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick looks forward to seeing Daryl at the diner the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to all my lovely readers for reading and leaving comments and kudos. You make me smile. : )

* * *

     Rick's day had been shit. Another domestic dispute at the Peletier residence. And he needed something to get the woman's face outta his head. He needed Daryl. Needed to know he was okay. To see him and know Daryl'd never have to face shit like that again.

     "Ya know I had ta do that, right?" Shane parked the car outside the diner. Checking his face for blood in the rear view mirror.

     "Of course ya did," Rick passed him a napkin from the glove box. Ed Peletier had beat on his wife. And his little girl. The way Daryl's old man had beat on him. Fucker deserved what he got when he picked on someone his own size. "He came after ya an' that's exactly what I'm puttin' in my report."

     "Son-of-a-bitch," Shane flashed his teeth. "Ruined my pretty face when I's comin' ta see my girl an' all." He blotted at the dried blood in the corner of his mouth. Old Ed got off a good one on Shane before he put him down.

     "Don't worry," Rick slid outta the car. "Dottie'll love ya anyway."

     Shane slammed the door. "A course she will," he was all smiles again. Even though it almost split his lip back open. "What's not ta love?"

     "Psh," Rick slipped into the diner. With every step he took he shoulda been feeling better. Closer to Daryl. But, somethin' was off. The regulars all sipped coffee, antsy to get their orders. The whole mood of the place was different. The few people with food were pushing it away. Burnt or underdone. And Rick's stomach flopped. Daryl would never let shit like that outta his kitchen.

     Dottie was on Shane the second she saw him. "Good lord," she took his face in her hands. Careful not ta put his eye out with one of her Lee Press-On nails. "You boys get inta a fight over me?" She teased. Leadin' them to a booth. "Am I gonna haveta have ya kiss an' make up?" She winked.

     "Hah," Shane took a seat and put his elbows on the table. Jabbed his thumb at Rick. "This one's been actin' funny all day, think he's in love fer sure." His eyes were wide, his smile wolfish. "But, he ain't gonna kiss an' tell."

     "I ain't kissin' no one," Rick huffed from across the booth. Stacking the pods of creamer into a pyramid so's he don't haveta make eye contact. And he wasn't lying. His lips never touched Daryl's. Even though he'd wanted to. God, did he want to taste the strawberry milkshake on his lips.

     It wasn't lost on Shane that Rick hadn't denied being in love. "Uh-huh," Shane kicked Rick's foot under the table. "You ain't kissin' _yet_."

     Rick stared at his creation on the table like it was the most fascinating thang. Feelin' his cheeks go about as red as Dottie's lipstick. "Where's Daryl?" He finally got his mouth to form the words. Afraid of the answer.

     Dottie shifted foot to foot. And Rick caught her an' Shane sharin' a look outta the corner of his eye. "Darlin'," she put a hand on his shoulder, "he didn't come inta work today." She patted his head. God that's never a good sign. "Hope yer not in no hurry, 'cuz it's a disaster back there, but I'ma bring ya what I can," she headed back to the kitchen. Where Daryl should be.

     Rick fished out his phone. Ignored Shane eying him suspiciously and chewing on a swizzle stick. _Daryl, I'm sorry about yesterday_ , he typed. But, he wasn't sorry. It was the best day of his life. He deleted it. _I hope I didn't_ , he deleted that, too. _Daryl, u ok?_ He hit send before he lost his nerve.

     Shane guzzled coffee around the stick in his mouth. "Truck prob'ly wouldn't start is all," he offered. "Thing's a piece a shit."

     Rick stared at his phone. Willing Daryl to answer. "He could be a mechanic the way he fixes shit all the time," he sighed. Checking his phone. Again. Nothing. Again.

     "Flat tire, then?" Shane was trying to help. He really was. But, it just made Rick feel worse. If Daryl were there he'd know just what to say. What to do. What Rick needed. But he wasn't there. And what Rick needed was Daryl.

     The air went out of Rick's lungs. Like he'd hoped it went outta Daryl's tire. But, he'd have at least texted Rick if he'd had a flat. Maybe asked for a ride. Let him know he was missing his shift and they couldn't eat together at the very least. And Rick could have just picked up a pizza after work and stopped by Daryl's. Eating together was their thang. _Was_.

     "Yeah, probably a flat tire," Rick hoped. Sat the phone on the table as Dottie shuffled up with plates.

     "This ain't Daryl's cookin' by a long stretch," she served 'em up. "But, it's the best I could get ya. Not too burnt."

     "Thanks," Rick dug in, but he had no appetite. Just ate to pass the time. So he could get back to work, get through his shift. And go find Daryl. Talk to him.

     Two hours later an' still nothin'. Daryl wouldn't ignore him. They could say anythang to each other. Even if it was, _fuck off, asshole, I ain't inta dudes, le's jus' be friends._ So after his shift Rick bypassed a shower and quickly changed out of his uniform. He was going to go to Daryl's and work thangs out. They'd have a laugh about it. And about Shane's date with Tiffinee. They were sort of right. Two E's. Thangs would be ok. They had to. Because, Rick would die without Daryl.

     Standing in front of his locker Rick tried texting again before leaving work. _Daryl?_

      _Sorry Bout b4_ , Daryl finally responded. _Ran into some trouble when my old man showed up on my doorstep._

Jesus, Rick's heart stopped. Relieved he wasn't the reason Daryl hadn't replied. And scared shitless his father was. _You ok?_ He jabbed the keys on his phone. No response. He was afraid to ask, _He hurt you?_

 _Yes,_ came Daryl's reply _._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack! Cliffhanger! But, I love my precious babies so I hope you will trust me with them and hang in there to see what happens next...I promise you won't hate me.


	4. Cigarettes An' Strawberries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick races to Daryl...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for leaving you hanging the way I did with the cliffhanger last chapter...

     Rick couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Rick had asked, _You ok?_ And, _Did he hurt you?_ And Daryl had answered, _yes_. To which question Rick wasn't sure. But, he was damn well going to find out.

     Hands shaking he buckled his service belt over his jeans. He was going to Daryl's. And if his asshole father had harmed a hair on his head he was gonna be sorry. And meet the business end of Rick's Python if he was still there. Rick slammed his locker shut an' ran to his car. Without so much as a goodbye to Shane who was still primping in the shower for Tiffinee.

     The faster he drove the more the world seemed to slow down. He broke the speed limit and ran every red light to get to Daryl's house. In ten minutes, according to his watch. But, it felt like forever. Like too long. Like Daryl could be hurt, could be...he didn't even want to think about it.

     Daryl's truck was out front and Rick didn't know if that made him more relieved or scared. All lights in the house were off save for the flicker of the TV as Rick skidded his car to a halt. Bounding up the porch steps he called out, "Daryl?" He tried the door, but it was locked. Fucking locked. "Daryl!" He pounded. Nothing. Peeking in the window where the curtains were tattered he saw Merle face down on the couch. Beer bottles an' lamps broken all over the floor. But, no Daryl. Fuck.

     Tears pricked at his eyes as he kicked in the door. Gun drawn. There was no blood. He kept telling himself that was a good sign as he crunched heavily over the broken glass. Merle's pulse was strong as he checked it, but he reeked of whiskey. "Daryl?" He called out again. Shaking. And all his years of training had not prepared him for this. For the fear of losing someone he _loved_.

     The house was empty save for Merle and Rick's anxiety was overtaking him as he moved toward the back door. He needed air. He needed Daryl. To fuckin' breathe. His phone vibrating in his pocket made his heart pop like a damn balloon. He fumbled to holster his gun and read the text as he staggered through the back door. _You still there?_  was all Daryl had typed.

     And, by the grace of God Rick saw him. Curled up against the porch railing. Hiding in the shadows. "I'm here," he ran to Daryl. Getting down on the peeling slats and scooping him into his arms.

     "Ya came," Daryl's voice was small. Muffled against Rick's neck.

     "I will always come when you need me, Daryl," Rick found himself unable to contain the tears anymore and they spilled down his cheeks in relief as he kissed the top of Daryl's head. Like a mother would a child. And Daryl's broad chest an' shoulders felt so small in his arms just then.

     "I ain't worth it," Daryl finally spoke again. Pulling back to look Rick in the eyes.

     Rick only let him move back so he could look him over. Make sure he wasn't hurt. "You are worth everythang to me, Daryl," he made his voice as gentle as he could. Like when he talks to lost kids. An' the Peletier girl. He scanned Daryl in the moonlight and his heart sank to see his tee-shirt collar stretched enough to sag down. Exposing fresh scratches crisscrossing over old scars. Blood on his lip and dried into the scruff on his chin.

     "Daryl, you're my brother," he cooed. More than Shane had ever been. "My friend." And so much more. "I need you," he rubbed circles over Daryl's back. Over every scar he'd never seen, but knew was there. "I need ya beside me." He pulled Daryl back into his neck. "It's like I'm suffocating all the time, but when I'm with you I can breathe." And it was the truth. "Ya make me feel whole, make me feel happy."

     Daryl nuzzled in. "And I let ya get chocolate shakes more'n I get strawberry."

     Rick couldn't help the laugh bubbling in his throat. Where his heart had been. "Hey, I let you have more than half the fries." And damn if that ain't what love is.

     "Only 'cuz ya eat so damn slow," Daryl sniffled. Squeezing his arms tight around Rick. "But, ya'd get yer fair share 'thout me." He seemed to shrink into himself. "Be better off."

     Rick stroked his fingers through Daryl's choppy hair. Like Daryl had done for him the other day. "Those are your father's words, Daryl, not mine," he soothed. "I want ya with me, always. Shoulder to shoulder like when we're fishin'," he confessed. Decided to go for broke and lay his soul bare, because he trusted his friend with it like he'd trusted no one else in his whole life. "I love you, Daryl."

     Daryl was silent. Processing Rick's words. Finally squirmed, freeing a hand to slug Rick's side gently. "Love ya, too ya idiot," he finally choked out.

     Rick pulled him close, "I mean I'm _in love_ with you," he clarified, because surely Daryl had not understood. "I want to know what you think of every night before bed." And not just the texts they sent every day. He wanted to be there. With Daryl. Stroking his hair and back as they talked. Sharing the same pillow. "I want to know what every inch of you feels like against me." He let that sink in. And when Daryl didn't protest or shrink away he continued, "I want to know what yer lips taste like."

     Daryl was quiet for so long Rick was afraid of what he might say. "Cigarettes," he finally croaked.

     "Huh?" Rick shook his head. He didn't have any. He only smoked with Daryl, sharing a cigarette like they shared everythang else. And he'd left his last one in his other jeans.

     Daryl lifted his head. Stared at Rick an inch from his nose. "Prob'ly jus' taste like cigarettes 'cuz I jus' came out here ta have a smoke." He chewed his lip, but he didn't look away. "But, 'f yer sayin' ya wanna kiss me," he shrugged. Closed his eyes. Waiting.

     He was beautiful. Patient an' trusting. And Rick bent down. Touching his lips to the scratches across Daryl's collar bone. Savoring the warmth of him. The taste of salt and earth. The taste of Daryl. He inched up Daryl's neck. Encouraged by the soft moan and gentle tilting of his head. An unspoken invitation to more.

     Slowly, slowly he worked his way up. Under his chin. And finally to Daryl's lips. Fitting together like the last two pieces of a puzzle he'd been working on his whole life had finally been completed. Daryl's lips were soft and warm and yielding. Tasting of cigarettes, a sweetness finer than any strawberries, and the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter left. Thanks to those still reading. I hope you are still enjoying it. Let me know what your thoughts. : )


	5. Kiss The Cook

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick comforts Daryl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awe, man, this is it. Although - if there is enough interest I might do a part two and revisit this AU...I love Rickyl and it would be fun to do more with Shane and Dottie, too. Maybe see how Tiffinee worked out. ; )  
> P.S. Yes, the title for this chapter comes from those silly aprons. LOL!

* * *

     Rick had only ever kissed Sarah Barber. In high-school. An' it was all spit and teeth. And even if it hadn't been for her braces it would not have been a pleasant thang. Because he did not love her. It was just a dare. And he never played that game again.

     But, kissing Daryl was like coming up for air when drowning. Coming home. There were bells and whistles. And fireworks. His hair standing on end. There was love. Coursing through him like electricity. And Rick's tongue moved in Daryl's mouth like he'd always known every inch of him.

     They kissed for hours. Using each other's air to breathe. Lips alternating between panting and wrestling to silently say,  _I love you._ And in between, when they were light headed and had to rest, Rick just held Daryl, curled around him. Shivering at Daryl's breath on his neck. And they did not stop until Daryl was shivering, too. Because they had been at it so long it had gotten cold outside.

     "Let me take ya inside," Rick cooed into Daryl's ear. Rubbing his cheek with his thumb. "Been a long day, I'll help ya to bed." He'd been noticing Daryl's head getting heavier on his shoulder the drowsier he got.

     Daryl chewed his lip, swollen from kissing. Licked Rick's spit off of it. Blinking back at him. "Make ya some pancakes," he nodded and let Rick help him to standing.

     "Don't think I could eat just now," Rick lead him into the kitchen by the hand. Wetted a washcloth and wiped at the dried blood on Daryl's chin.

     "Meant fer breakfast," Daryl huffed. Keeping still for Rick to work on him. "Er d'ya only ever eat 'em fer dinner?"

     Rick smiled at the thought of Daryl making him pancakes in his own kitchen. After they'd shared the same bed. "Won't your brother mind?" Not that Merle'd be in any position to put up a fuss after the hangover he was gonna have.

     "He knows 'm in love with ya, why ya think he always calls me Darlena?" Daryl sassed. Checked Rick's handy work by his reflection in the microwave.

     "Thought he was jus' bein' a dick ta be honest," Rick smirked. Dabbing at Daryl's face some more. "Ain't that what older brothers are for?"

     Daryl chuckled. "Yeah, he sure is a dick sometimes," he sighed. "But, he took the worst a it t'night. Protected me."

     And Rick was grateful for it. Afraid Daryl might have just taken what was coming. What he thought he deserved. Like Carol always did. "All fixed," he patted Daryl's cheek. "Probably should fix your door, too," he waved at the thang hanging off its hinges in the living room. "Make sure it locks proper." In case he comes back.

     "But, it goes so well with the decor," Daryl teased. Side-eyeing the crooked door as he padded over the broken lamps and beer bottles to it. "I c'n fix that easy," he jiggled it. "Plenty a practice growin' up, ya know?" He rifled the junk drawer for a small hammer and a box of odd screws and nails. "Ya came in here like the cavalry?" He sounded surprised. "For me?"

     "It was locked and I couldn't get in and I thought," Rick sputtered, but, he didn't want to say what he'd thought. He just moved in to hold the door in place as Daryl worked. Hip to hip. His hands moving like they were an extension of Daryl's. Anticipating his every need. The way they did everythang together. "I-I-"

     Daryl bent over to him and cut him off with a soft kiss before jimmying the dead bolt back into place. "Woulda liked ta seen that," he shook his head. The corners of his mouth fighting a grin.

     "I'm sure it was real graceful," Rick choked out a laugh. "Ya know how I am when we're out huntin'." Clumsy as fuck. 'Course some of that was jus' being distracted by Daryl.

     "Mmm," Daryl hummed. Testing the door. "Yer good at scarin' birds outta the bush." He set the tools aside and slipped his hand around Rick's. "Always breakin' twigs an' shit, but this musta been somethin'."

     "I just don't want to scare you, Daryl," Rick whispered.

     Daryl shrugged. Squeezed Rick's fingers. And he didn't even need to say a word.

     "Come on," Rick led the way to Daryl's room. Closed the door and turned the lock. "Le'me get you outta these," he guided Daryl to the edge of the bed, unbuttoned Daryl's jeans. Slipped them down. Letting his palms brush the length of his thighs as he exposed Daryl's boxers. And he eased him to sitting on the mattress to slide the jeans over his feet. But, he could not leave him in the shirt he'd nearly had ripped off him. Stretched out and sagging over his scratches.

     Rick fumbled in the dresser for a clean one. Put it on the mattress beside him. And Daryl seemed to understand that meant the other was going to have to come off. But, he did not flinch or shrink away. Only gave himself up to Rick. Like it was merely a bandaid being ripped off he was braving.

     But Rick would be gentle. Show Daryl every bit of tenderness he deserved. "May I?" His voice was barely a whisper. Breathed right into Daryl's ear, before he eased back to read his expression. Looking for any sign of fear in his eyes. But, there was only trust. And Rick felt honored to be worthy of it. Because he knew it was not given lightly.

     Daryl nodded. "You know wha's there," he shrugged. Keeping eye contact. "Every fuck up-"

     But, Rick did not let him finish. Touching a finger gently to his lips to keep him from saying any more of his father's words. He lifted the hem of the shirt. Slowly. Giving Daryl every chance to change his mind. But, he was limp and pliant. Let Rick peel it up. Exposing his soft belly and broad shoulders. And the scars. Cutting across him in stripes of white and pink.

     "Yer the only one ever seen 'em 'sides Merle," Daryl's voice was small again. "Only one I trust."

     "What I see isn't scars," Rick made his voice as soft as he could. "I see the strength it took to not let that asshole ruin you, Daryl," Rick hummed. Tracing the trail of the worst scar with his lips. From Daryl's chest to his navel. "I see a gentle man with a good heart. A beautiful man." And Daryl was beautiful. The most beautiful thang Rick had ever seen. He let his hands and lips explore every last mark before he eased the clean shirt over Daryl's head.

     Laying him back onto the pillow Rick smiled. "I also see a tired man, too." He kissed Daryl's forehead and adjusted the blankets until they were securely over him.

     Daryl let his eyes fall closed. Clutching Rick's hand as it moved to brush his cheek. "Stay."

     "I will never leave you," Rick cooed. And he'd never meant anythang more in his whole life. "Besides, ya promised me pancakes," he reminded him with a wink as he removed his gun belt. Shimmied out of his boots and jeans. And slipped in beside Daryl. Shoulder to shoulder. Like when they're fishing.

     There was no space between them. No awkwardness either. They'd done this so many times before. But, never in bed. Half naked. Somehow it felt more right this way. Closer. And when Daryl rolled into Rick like it was the most natural thang in the world Rick couldn't help but smile. And he stroked Daryl's hair. Doing his damndest to make Daryl feel that all was right with the world. And he wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life doing it.

     Daryl was the one to finally break the silence. "Ya wanted ta know what I think 'bout b'fore bed?"

     Rick grinned. Because, while thangs had changed between them so much was still the same. The closeness. "Ya mean besides, why I catch more fish than you do?"

     "No ya don't," Daryl swatted him. "Seriously, though," he yawned. "I'd think 'bout this an' how nice it would be ta jus'...be held." Rick could feel Daryl's cheek burning against him. "By you."

     "I think about us, too," Rick hummed. He thought about Daryl all the time. Holding Daryl. Kissing Daryl. Protecting Daryl. Making him smile.

     There was another long silence filled only by the sound of their breathing. But, their fingers gently stroking eachother said all they needed to say. Daryl squeezed him. "I'd be lyin' 'f I said I ain't thought a doin' other stuff with ya, too," he finally confessed, without looking up.

     "Mm," Rick patted his back. "Like hikin' to Yellow Jacket Creek?" He teased. Knew that'd get a rise outta him.

     "Ass," Daryl snorted. But, he hugged onto Rick a little tighter.

     Daryl stayed on Rick's chest for awhile. Finally scooting down under the covers to lay on Rick's belly. "Ya ain't 's soft 's me," he pinched. "Gonna haveta put some meat on yer skinny ass," he sassed, but Rick could hear the smile in his voice.

     "You will if I keep eatin' your cookin'," Rick grinned. "Breakfast and dinner now."

     Daryl burrowed in. "What 'bout lunch?" He sounded genuinely put out. "Don'tcha think I'ma feed m' boyfriend?" His hand found its way under Rick's shirt. Skin on skin. Stroking the patch of hair there. Like Rick had done to him the other day. And if it was at all strange Daryl was talking about the future and grinning his ass off neither said a word about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all my lovely readers. Your comments and kudos are much appreciated. <3


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